


sleepless cinderella - yukhei

by starlightkun



Series: sleepless cinderella (wayv) [5]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Explorer Yukhei, F/M, Fluff, Journalist Reader, Model Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Reader is in denial, they go on a romantic getaway to an undisclosed trpoical island, yukhei is Cultured and whipped and a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightkun/pseuds/starlightkun
Summary: in which you can’t stop procrastinating the best thing in your life
Relationships: Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas/Reader
Series: sleepless cinderella (wayv) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931839
Kudos: 35





	sleepless cinderella - yukhei

It had probably been weeks since you’d been to the VIP Lounge, and you felt absolutely pathetic. So far, your word document for your final article had a total of two words: your name.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your professor’s office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed _some_ sort of guidance. Professor Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really was just making small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. Chengxiao and Xuanyi—my roommates—made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun with them?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I wasn’t with them for most of the night, actually.”

“Meet someone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your professor an explanation of the actual situation.

At the end of your story, she had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“I mean, can you really count a surgeon, a pilot, and a robotics engineer as celebrities?”

“So you’re telling me that you met seven men with interesting jobs in one night—four of whom are well-known celebrities—have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and _still_ don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, a flush came to your face and you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

Your professor frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your professor’s teachings or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Professor Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

* * *

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. Chengxiao was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she focused on the reading material in her hands.

As she read her magazine, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of it. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a frog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over the pages at you.

“Wong Yukhei,” you threw a hand in the direction of her magazine. “He kind of looks like a frog. Right?”

Your friend looked at the front cover again, giving you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a frog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point.

“He doesn’t.”

You launched yourself up from the armchair, “I bet the other VIP members would agree with me.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve decided to go back to ask them if they agree that Wong Yukhei looks like a frog?” Xiao watched you incredulously as you stuffed your feet into your stubbornly stiff shoes.

“Yeah.”

She chuckled to herself as her focus returned to the article she was reading, “Have fun, you weirdo.”

* * *

When you arrived at the lounge, you were sure you looked like a madman bursting out of the elevator, looking around desperately for any of the lounge members. Yangyang, Dejun, and Ten were already there. Relieved that somebody was there to listen to you, a huge grin came to your features as you dashed into the room.

Dejun’s face lit up when he recognized you, “Y/N! You came back!”

“Yeah, I have something really important to ask you guys,” you declared, still breathing heavily from when you practically ran from your apartment to the bus stop, then from the bus stop up to the VIP lounge.

You went off-track for a moment to acknowledge the other two that were there as well, “Hey, Yangyang. Hey, Ten.”

“Hello.” “Hi.”

Your childhood friend gestured to the couch beside him for you to sit down on, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You didn’t sit down, however, way too focused on your task, “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Yukhei kind of look like a frog?”

Ten seemed concerned for your mental state. Dejun had a look of pure confusion. Yangyang’s brows were furrowed as he pondered your question whole-heartedly.

Finally, the F1 racer gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!”

Ten fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“Y/N, are you—” Dejun was cut off by the doctor shoving his phone screen in his face, presumably a picture of Yukhei on it. “Shit, he does.”

Feeling vindicated, you collapsed onto a different, unoccupied couch than the one Dejun had previously offered to you as you shouted, “Thank you! Thank you! My roommate Chengxiao didn’t agree with me so I _had_ to come and—”

A _bing!_ stopped your breathy ramblings but couldn’t wipe the elated grin on your face as you turned to look at who had arrived.

Surprise and a heavy feeling of anxiety consumed your being as the doors parted to reveal the very man you had just been discussing. Well, more like the man whose appearance you had just been making fun of.

Wong Yukhei stepped off the elevator already with a broad smile on his face as he greeted everyone, “Hey guys! Oh Y/N! You’re here!”

“H-Hey, F-Frog Boy,” Yangyang kept getting cut off by his own high-pitched laughter as he responded.

The model tilted his head to the side, “What?”

“Hey, Frog Boy!” He repeated.

“Are you calling me ‘Frog Boy?’ Why?”

Dejun took it upon himself to explain, “Well, it has come to our attention that uhm, you kind of look like a frog.”

Yangyang’s laughing fit gained intensity at this, he was practically cackling now.

Meanwhile, a horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Yukhei had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met _twice_ saying he looked like a frog.

“Who thinks I look like a frog?”

So far, he seemed merely confused, no sense of anger. Maybe you would survive this with your self-confidence intact.

“Well, all of us,” Ten said, and you could sense a ‘but’ coming. “But, Y/N’s the one that uh, brought it to our attention.”

When Yukhei’s gaze focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that’s really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m at least a cute frog, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Yukhei,” Yangyang snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m just fine, Yangyang.”

“Then why are you bright red and unable to look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Yukhei, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Yangyang was right, you couldn’t look Yukhei in the eye, and knew that your face, neck, and ears were practically scalding. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What?” Yukhei scoffed, flopping down onto the same couch that you were on. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into the corner of the couch. Meanwhile, the other three were finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the lounge at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Yukhei scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Ten had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Dejun slapped Ten’s arm as Yangyang was practically howling with laughter in his armchair.

While they were distracted among themselves, Yukhei’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eyes, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was _hear_ the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually…” Yukhei didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The other three had ceased their squabbling and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, I’m going to be super busy this entire semester. I’ve got my final article to do for my grad program and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so…”

Yukhei was unfazed, “What’s your topic?”

“I-uh it’s…” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

Ten just _had_ to offer up his opinion right then, “Do it on Yukhei!”

If you were a lesser person, you’d have strangled Ten in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’s in the parameters of your assignment, of course.”

You sighed, “It is. We have no rules, guidelines, or barriers on topic, structure, content, length, or style.”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Wong Yukhei dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Yukhei. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Yukhei?” Dejun speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically.”

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

* * *

[yukhei: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Earlier today you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Yukhei’s phone number.

[yukhei: i have a fitting this afternoon but i’ll be done in time to get dinner]

[yukhei: if that works for you, of course]

[yukhei: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[yukhei: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of Chengxiao, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It’s just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you _that much_ in a row other than me?”

“Wong Yukhei, apparently.”

At your very deadpan statement, Chengxiao’s eyes widened and her mouth parted in disbelief, “You got _Yukhei’s_ number?”

“Yeah, he’s letting me interview him for my final article.”

“Does he know that you said he looks like a frog?”

“Yes, he thought it was hilarious.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone.

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

“Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[yukhei: here’s my schedule]

[yukhei: _attached image_ ]

[yukhei: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey Xiao,” you got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here,” she pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

* * *

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Yukhei that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours. Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping to your phone with white knuckles. An incoming call from Yukhei. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in the VIP Lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked with your “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The contrastingly bright but deep voice of Wong Yukhei came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Wong Yukhei in your apartment—with your roommates home—would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Thumbing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Yukhei would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Yukhei right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own,” you shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Yukhei took your silence as a cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

* * *

The restaurant Yukhei had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Yukhei pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Yukhei, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Wong. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Yukhei bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Yukhei. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Zihao,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Zihao, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t _technically_ allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that has a good chance of being published in the most popular journal in Southeast Asia counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my professor. And I suppose Zihao and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Yukhei said loudly, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Zihao’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Meiqi, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Yukhei seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Meiqi is Zihao’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Yukhei was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?” Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, me, and my younger brother. My father is Chinese while my mother is Thai. But please don’t ask me to speak Thai, I never learned.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Yukhei’s ever-so-animated face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a really good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, I used to go ice skating a lot when I was younger. I haven’t in so long, I’d like to get back on the ice again.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about ice skating. Then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

* * *

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Yukhei. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The _real_ Wong Yukhei when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP Lounge card as proof. Yukhei told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Wong Yukhei’s PA.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Yukhei’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he _not_ mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘his Renjunnie’ like seven times.”

Renjun physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that name.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you instead of opening it for himself with no regard to you behind him.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Wong Yukhei.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Renjun tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Okay,” you walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Renjun explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Yukhei. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Yukhei and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Renjun to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Yukhei’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new Dior campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Wong Yukhei was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge cosmetics company. Famous model.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Yukhei made a beeline for you and Renjun, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Renjun offered the water out to Yukhei then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Renjunnie.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Renjun made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Renjun rolled his eyes at the taller man’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two old friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Yukhei took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Renjun was saying that this shoot is for the new Dior campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Yukhei handed his water back to Renjun before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Professor Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Yukhei alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one last thing on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Yukhei quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Renjun, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Yukhei. Renjun had a simper of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same little smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Renjun. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Rejunnie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Yukhei probably begged.”

“I can’t imagine what would be so special about me.”

Renjun had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Yukhei! Wong Yukhei!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Yukhei’s arms were crossed across his chest. A startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Yukhei can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Yukhei, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Yukhei stopped right by you and Renjun. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Renjun stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Yukhei,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Yukhei reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Yukhei…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Yukhei, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay.”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could _Wong Yukhei_ possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual _model_ , someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you. And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as any career opportunities I would get from it.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply, “I get it. After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant.

But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Renjunnie will come looking for us soon,” Yukhei nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You thought about how you could possibly keep this interview going forever, giving you as much time as possible. To do what? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else and that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

* * *

“Oh my _god!"_ “Are you _shitting_ me?”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommates, finally ending at the part where Yukhei had asked you on a date. Xuanyi had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as Chengxiao smacked your other roommate’s leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, he was extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” Chengxiao squealed, pressing for more information.

“She hasn’t even said if she said yes or not,” Xuanyi pointed out.

“Obviously, she did—”

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, Xuanyi sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“Wait,” Chengxiao spoke up. “You _don’t_ want to go on a date with Yukhei?”

“I don’t want to date Wong Yukhei,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very _hot_ guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Yukhei’s mouth hours earlier.

Xuanyi snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that _shit_ that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” Chengxiao cut in with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Wong Yukhei in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

“Xiao’s right,” Xuanyi confirmed after your eyes had strayed over to her for reassurance.

The anxiety was still there, however, “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you, “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommates exchanged similar looks of ‘yikes,’ and the slight blush that had been ever-present on your cheeks heated up to astronomical levels, pure mortification running through every blood vessel on your face.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on _Wong Yukhei’s_ life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” Xuanyi frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently.

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

Your roommates exchanged another look, but you didn’t care. Your mind had been made up.

* * *

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Yukhei, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Yukhei had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Yukhei, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to—there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Yukhei added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant but definite chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Yukhei ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Wong Yukhei, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Wong.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Wong Yukhei was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. _Wong Yukhei_ was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

* * *

The light hum that had been in Professor Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect. But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling _here_. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Professor Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But—”

Oh, another but.

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in almost a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Professor Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Yukhei? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario _and_ getting a career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Professor Zhang.”

“Please, you’re one of my employees now, Qi is just fine.”

* * *

Right as you stepped off the elevator into the VIP Lounge, you were met with the expecting face of Yukhei. You’d agreed to meet him there right after your appointment with Professor— _Qi_ —to let him know if the article was going to be published or not.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Yukhei hugged you tightly, “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” Then it seemed to have dawned on him, “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a physical step back from you, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt _so bad_. And yet you nodded, agreeing with him, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe hopefully forever.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring.’ I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… your exploring.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Yukhei than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Yukhei had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?”

“Since now.”

You sighed, “Yukhei, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next _actual_ scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but _I_ can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt a blush rising on your cheeks from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Wong Yukhei.

_Right?_

* * *

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Yukhei had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your professor— _boss_ —thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Yukhei, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the pink tinge to your cheeks.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Yukhei didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Yukhei.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would _you_ have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Wong Yukhei.

_Right?_

* * *

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Yukhei had requested you bring you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. And a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Yukhei slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on his.

* * *

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Yukhei’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank god you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto _him_ for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

* * *

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Yukhei had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Yukhei,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Yukhei…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Yukhei, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Yukhei spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Yukhei let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch, “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The other guys don’t even know the whole story.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, huh?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably almost a year ago now. I was still fairly new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words, “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Yukhei. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. And you knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—CEO Cai—seated me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It _wasn’t_ me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a certain amount of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Yukhei.

“Now, my company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of. Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A slight laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Yukhei than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Yukhei chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Yuk. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a _bitch_.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Yukhei, right?”

“Right!”

_Right?_

* * *

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Yukhei at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing _Famous Supermodel Yukhei_ right now, you were interviewing _Explorer Yukhei_. And _he_ was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Yukhei—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from Chengxiao, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were _not_ on a romantic getaway with Yukhei.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Zhang Qi. Your boss. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Yukhei emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Yukhei was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from god knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Yukhei never ceased to amaze you.

“Yukhei,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

His signature crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Kun and Dejun seemed fearful for my life, and told me to be safe; Yangyang and Ten were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Kunhang told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Sicheng… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to Sicheng and Hendery about the trip?”

“Not by choice, Kunhang was there when I mentioned it to Yangyang and Ten, and Sicheng was there when I met Kun and Dejun for lunch.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

* * *

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Yukhei had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“ _I’m_ your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Kun and Dejun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

* * *

Thank god you’d taken heed of Kunhang’s advice of bringing extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Yukhei kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Renjun out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Yukhei, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP members had joined him as a celebration trip after the youngest one of them, Yangyang, graduated from their boarding school. They ran out of water on the second day, Kun ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mass mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was ended early.

“Yukhei, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Yukhei accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

* * *

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Yukhei yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full 360 of the view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Yuk, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes, “You’ve _seen_ them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller form popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You arched an eyebrow in confusion, “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. If your cheeks weren’t already a bright red from the exertion of hiking up here, you were sure they would’ve betrayed your bashfulness right then and there.

Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Yukhei took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for Yukhei to hear.

Yukhei had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Yukhei, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Yukhei rolled his eyes, “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you shut it, “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Yukhei informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

* * *

After being rather useless in helping Yukhei set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Yukhei had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers and doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you _explore_ it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me, the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently, “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

* * *

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Yukhei had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Yuk,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Yukhei was pretty big, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

* * *

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Yukhei interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be _right now_ was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Qi will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Yukhei’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to bring it up and end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Yukhei folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Yukhei as much room as possible to maneuver his long limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Yukhei’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Yukhei had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Yukhei’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Yukhei, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Yukhei, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. Shoving your feet back into your shoes, you headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Yukhei standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Yukhei’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Yukhei’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Yukhei?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, feather-light as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Yukhei’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Yukhei was looking down at you with a tilted head, “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Yukhei ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Qi and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

* * *

The elevator doors opened to the VIP Lounge, where you had agreed to meet Yukhei after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what Chengxiao was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Qi about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Yukhei was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would _have_ to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Yukhei clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

* * *

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Yukhei picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommates weren’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Yuk,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, darling,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

“Darling?”

“Don’t like it?”

“Not sure yet, call me it again.”

“Darling, you look so cute when you scrunch your nose up like that.”

You instinctively unscrunched your nose that had been scrunched up in thought, a bashful grin tugging at the corner of your mouth, “I like it.”

“Good.”

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor boy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Yukhei appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Yukhei replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took _you_ five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled but definite chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Yukhei ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Wong Yukhei.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Yukhei with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Wong Yukhei was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. _Wong Yukhei_ was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.


End file.
